Kage
by Fanwright
Summary: In the teeming jungles of the Fire Nation, a dark spirit falls for a mortal from its past. / Sokkla Saturdays: 200 word Drabble Challenge / Sokkla.
1. Ch 1: Fascination

**\- Fascination -**

* * *

It was a thing of monstrous beauty, gazing at a boy cleaning the blood off his sword.

She watched from the shade of the jungle leaves, the creek flowing past the sword's edge, red veins drifting lazily downstream. He glided the cloth against the blade as it sang with a sharp hiss.

There was something intriguing about how his shoulders sank, the hollow look in his eyes. He had been cleaning the same side of his blade for too long. He was somewhere else, lost within his mind.

And then he blinked, as if a painful spark had been lit within him, dropping the sword into the water, sucking the fresh cut on his finger.

She remembered him. She remembered the furious look in those eyes years ago, when the sun turned black, when phantom voices laced with lies plagued her dreams.

Unbridled fury, walled within a beguiling soul. And from such a cold, desolate place.

Azula would know in time what brought him to this remote corner of the Fire Nation. What fascinated her more was that distant look in his eyes.

"Is there a darkness within you?" she rasped softly, muffled by her mask. "Have you accepted it too?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

This is part of the Sokkla Saturdays: Drabble Challenge. If you would like to participate, then go to The Crying Demon: Sokkla Forum here on FanFiction. Details for the challenge are listed there. Support other authors for the challenge and check out their works as well.

Thank you for reading and see you next Saturday!


	2. Ch 2: Attraction

**\- Attraction -**

* * *

She had decided, after closely shadowing his lone forays into the jungle for some time, that when he tied his hair up it was the most unappealing, unsightly thing she had ever seen, with his sides shaved.

Cultural inclinations be damned. If Azula wanted to gaze at something that resembled the backside of a flea-bitten wolf cub, then she'd have… no, wait, she would _not_ have gone to the South Pole and done just that.

Secluded in the shadows of the of jungle undergrowth near his camp, Azula felt the creases of a scowl forming behind her mask, smoldering under her stifling black cloak in quiet annoyance.

She glared at his bare back as he knelt by the creek washing his face, her eyes trailing up, and watched his wet fingers rake through his hair and clumsily undo the pesky knot.

When, _at_ _last_ , his hair came undone, she felt a tug at her chest, a fiery swoop that radiated down and through her, and a vicious desire to see him _overwhelmed_ and feel hi-

A twig snapped at her feet. She didn't see his ears perk up at the sound or see him go for his sword.

Like the fleeting moment, she was gone.

* * *

 **A/N:**

If you would like to learn more about the Sokkla Saturdays - Drabble Challenge, then you can check out the details on The Crying Demon Forum.

Thank you for being patient, thank you for reading, and see you next Saturday!

 **Editing Note:**

Revised for present tense error - 8:30 AM 6/18/2016. I appreciate it, Clarielparke.


	3. Ch 3: Confidence

**\- Confidence -**

* * *

Just ask. All she had to do was _ask_. They were _sisters_ now, for what it was worth. No secrets unshared, no lies told.

She took a deep breath, let out a sigh, and summoned as much courage as she could.

"I'm asking her," Zirin stated, standing up from her place near the campfire.

"Whatever," sighed Ming, rolling onto her back on her mat, glaring at the stars, "Not my business anyway."

Zirin turned and made her way through the night until she climbed the steps of an abandoned temple overtaken by the jungle wilderness around it.

Inside, scattered candles lit a dim antechamber, the walls painted a ghostly blue. A dark silhouette prepared to lie down on a mat. Zirin approached it with caution.

" _Mèimei*_?" she asked, "Where've you be-"

"None of your _concern_ ," Azula hissed sharply. "I'm tired. Let me sleep."

Zirin pressed on. This habit had to stop.

"Look, if it's about keeping an eye on that White Lotus boy, then you've nothing to worry-"

"I _said_ it's none of your concern," she stated again, her words echoing through the empty halls.

The girl narrowed her eyes, her lips pursed into a grimace.

"…If you say so," Zirin said, slowly turning away into the night. " _Highness_."

* * *

 **A/N:**

* = Chinese pinyin for "sister".

If you would like to know more about the Sokkla Saturdays - Drabble Challenge, then you can check it out on The Crying Demon Sokkla Forum.

Thank you for reading and see you next Saturday!


	4. Ch 4: Scar

**\- Scar -**

* * *

The cut was fresh and deep, running like a red chasm down his face.

Before the rain came she had watched him in pain, the creek stained a murky red, his face the very picture of agony as he came up for air, washing the wound.

He bit down on a scrap of wood as he rubbed a green, viscous salve over it, choking down tears.

He slept in the shade now, under a thick canopy of rain sodden leaves, sword at his side.

She watched the faint rise and fall of his chest. Thunder boomed through the trees, but he didn't stir. Her finger tapped against her thumb incessantly.

"Gonna leave a nasty scar. That's what he gets for ambushing holdouts," Zirin muttered.

"He beat 'em all though," Ming added.

"Those New Ozai grunts were _never_ good fighters," Zirin spat.

She turned her masked face toward Azula, her hand gripping her arm, pleading.

"This has _nothing_ to do with us anymore. Let's just leave. If they kill him, so what? He's not trying to find us any-"

" _Shut up_ ," Azula hissed, tearing her arm away from Zirin. "Not _another_ word. The remnants of the New Ozai Society have outlived their usefulness. Time to fix our mistake."

They slipped away into the jungle, the air cold as the rain thrummed against the leaves.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next Saturday!


	5. Ch 5: Muse

**\- Muse -**

* * *

That night, when the dew caught the moonlight dappling the jungle canopy, he played a song with a bamboo flute.

Foolish risk. The tune carried through the leaves and rode on the breeze. Anyone could've heard it, but through that night, as Azula listened from among the shadows, no one dared to come.

She wished someone had. It would've been a welcomed distraction.

His song was practiced, passed down, each note like a mournful howl echoing through the night, rising to the moon.

It stirred something in her as her eyes slid shut, lost in its melody.

She sighed against her mask, the past rushing back into her. She remembered the war, the madness that consumed her, images of her mother plaguing her mind.

That woman and her lies were as cold and distant as the moon. Azula wanted it that way. She would embrace the darkness that she knew had long been apart of her life. She would relish being the monster in the night.

And, yet, his song strummed at the pain that still lingered within her.

For a fleeting moment, removing her mask, Azula cupped her face in her trembling, bloody hands and imagined his embrace.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Another version of this, as well as other related drabbles, will be posted here on the seventh Saturday of this challenge as a bonus read.

Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading and I'll see you next Saturday!


	6. Ch 6: Question

**\- Question -**

* * *

The dawn was red and the fog weaved through the bamboo stalks like a rushing stream.

Her breath was ragged and sweat clung to her face behind her splintered mask. She caught her breath, daggers of blue fire reignited in her fists.

"Have you forgotten your oath, _Mèimei_?" Zirin asked, hunched across from her. "The one you _forced_ us to take, when you _needed_ us for your little plot?"

Azula was silent, her gaze fixed on her opponent.

"'A sister shall not harm or abandon another sister. Heaven and Earth bear witness and strike dead anyone who breaks this oath.'"

Zirin clutched her charred mask and threw it to the ground. Her face was bruised, blood staining her teeth, fury flickering in her eyes.

"You let Ming _die_ at the hands of those New Ozai holdouts! And for what!? Because saving that _boy_ from them was more important!?"

Grass crunched beneath Azula's feet as she took a stance, the morning heat rising.

Her voice was grim. "You _turned_ on me for that. You tried to kill him _and_ me. You _dared_ to defy me."

Zirin's hands ignited with fire, trembling with rage as she broke into a sprint.

"You _monster_! I'll kill you!"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thank you for reading and I'll see you next Saturday!


	7. Ch 7: Dream

**\- Dream -**

* * *

She awoke to the sun in her eyes speckled by shadows, the smell of charred bamboo heavy in the air.

Her head throbbed, her body ached with pain, and her mouth tasted of blood. The world was a chaotic daze, shapes losing their form, colors blurred from one to the next, a ringing in her ears.

She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing and she struggled to regain a measure of herself amid the nightmarish haze.

As she tried to sit up with her elbows, rasping for air, she coughed up blood instead, the pain irritating her throat.

"Whoa, hey," came a voice, a shadow blotting out the stifling sun. "Easy now, lets not get excited."

A firm yet gentle hand urged her back down. She blinked away the haze and, slowly, she saw the boy with the scar across his face.

"…You... Sokka," Azula grunted, a sudden jolt of pain spreading through her as his hands pressed a healing salve to her burns. "Not s'pposed… t'have a scar…"

"What?"

Her head rolled slowly to her side, the charred body of her former sister baking in the sun, her mask shattered to pieces in the grass.

Tears blinded her. "S'not… not a dream then…"

* * *

 **A/N:**

And we reach the 7th Saturday of this challenge. I'd like to thank everyone who participated and everyone who has followed along with this little story. Its been a great ride.

If you'd like to participate in the next set of prompts for this challenge, go to "The Crying Demon Forum" here on FF as we go on a week break period to prepare for more. If you'd like to check out the other writing challenges we have to offer, such as the Free-Write Challenge (same as this challenge, but with no word limit) you are more than welcome to give them a try.

Thanks for reading!


	8. 7th Saturday Bonus - Attraction

**\- 7th Saturday Bonus: Attraction Drafts -**

* * *

"Jinzo!" she cried out. "Anybody! Where are you guys!?"

Nothing.

She grinded her teeth, sweat trickling down her forehead in the stifling jungle heat, eyes darting at every twitching branch.

She coughed, her throat dry as smoke from a dozen fires choked the air, a gray haze tinged by dancing embers hanging over her.

Something rustled in the brush at corner of her eye. She caught a shadow rushing between the flames consuming the jungle grass.

"Damn you!" she roared.

Heat coursed through her arm as she struck out toward the moving shadow, a long stream of fire burning through the foliage.

"Stand and fight, White Lotus coward! Come out so I can burn the rest of you!"

Her desperate attacks set the ground ablaze. The heat was unbearable and the smoke began to sting her eyes. She coughed cursing under her ragged breath.

Through the haze the shadow rushed forward. She was too slow for it. A swift kick to the head and she was down, the taste of blood between her teeth.

"Pathetic," the shadow coolly rasped, daggers of blue fire in her fists, "You should have known better than to _hurt_ him."

"… _You!_ ," the holdout spat.

Her last word.

* * *

Sokka was terrified of the fire that engulfed him, born of passion and pain.

It was too easy now, falling into that addicting, pleasurable rhythm with her, the oldest and most intimate of dances. He felt set along a dark and winding path, exploring a passion he was too horrified to accept.

He knew how it came to this, how she toyed with his heart like cats toy with yarn, sinking her claws in, coming and going in the night, hiding behind that mask and cloak.

It was her interest in him, perhaps, or her yellow eyes, or her red lips, or her neck, or her skin pressed against his, or her scent that lingered in the afterglow of their passion that drew him in. He couldn't remember anymore. Couldn't care less when she was close to him.

She was bad for him, so bad and he knew it. That festering thought in the back of his mind always reminded him how far he had fallen.

He always forced it from his mind. Each kiss, each bite, each sigh or embrace sought to chase it away so he could focus on her. He wanted nothing else to matter.

And the fire would engulf him again, burning away any doubt and shame, at least for the moment.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Two draft for "Attraction" that didn't make the cut. The first is directly related to "Kage", while the second can only be vaguely related.


	9. 7th Saturday Bonus - Muse

**\- 7th Saturday Bonus: Muse Draft -**

* * *

Azula had never been fond of blades.

Through her toil, sweat, and fury, she had forged herself into a living weapon. There was no use for a piece of sharpened steel when all she needed was fire.

Zuko had a fondness for them. He was given one when she was given _garbage_. He pestered and whined, _begging_ to be taught by the best, befitting one given the best.

He was _never_ the best.

Mai had a fondness for them too. It grew over time into a skill born from boredom. She made herself into an accomplished nuisance through knives. A _treacherous_ and _selfish_ nobleman's daughter rebelling against the world through cuts in the wall.

She was _utterly_ pathetic.

The peasant with the black sword… Sokka.

He was cut and bruised, mud and sweat staining his tunic as he fought his last opponent among the burning bamboo stalks. He was possessed with a furious desire to live, charging through the smoke and ambers.

A single cut. Blood dappled his face. The fire-bender fell.

Azula tilted her head, a smile slowly touching her lips behind her mask.

She never knew killing a man with a blade could be so captivating.

* * *

 **A/N:**

"Muse" draft that didn't make the cut. Directly related to "Kage".


	10. 7th Saturday Bonus - Scar

**\- 7th Saturday Bonus: Scar Draft -**

* * *

At least he could thank the Universe for _bestowing_ him with the grizzly battle souvenir he always wanted. It was, however, in a bad place and it was _a lot_ more agonizing than he thought it would be to stitch it up.

"Can you, maybe, _not_ poke my nose with that?" Sokka winced, eyes half lidded as he held back tears of pain.

The needle passed through his skin and he felt a sharp pang as the string tightened, making him grit his teeth.

"The cut runs through the middle of your face," Azula stated, sitting across from him, her steely gaze focused on her task. "Be thankful you still have a nose to _breathe_ out of."

She had the air of a girl possessed with thoughts of murder. Sokka tried not to let that get to him.

"You're mad at me," he managed to utter as he felt the needle prick the skin near the cut.

" _Livid_ , actually," Azula said sharply. "Any closer and you would not have a head."

For a time Sokka didn't speak, sitting quietly as Azula continued to stitch his wound, trying to find the right words.

"…Thank you," he finally said.

" _Hmph_. You better be thankful."

* * *

 **A/N:**

"Scar" draft that was not included. Indirectly related to the "Kage" storyline.


	11. 7th Saturday Bonus - Question

**\- 7th Saturday Bonus: Question/Epilogue Draft -**

* * *

He'd have never guessed it, but Azula was kind of heavy.

That, or maybe his arms were just getting tired from carrying her. He _had_ been walking for a while, weaving passed the tall bamboo stalks, and the mid-day heat _was_ setting in.

Sokka slouched forward as his boots crunched beneath twigs, Azula's weight pressed against him, arms dangling limply over his shoulders, her head rested against his.

He couldn't tell if she was breathing heavily or snoring, but there was a bit of comfort knowing that he was carrying a live person on his back.

This worried him. Here he was, alone in the jungle, hunting an enemy that didn't want to be found, carrying a potential threat that, once he healed her, may cut his throat when he least expected it.

He didn't even know she was Azula until she garbled his name and cleaned the ash off her face. She wasn't dressed like a New Ozai holdout, and thinking she was a wounded jungle forager they didn't kill properly seemed reasonable at the time.

Still, where was the logic in him doing this?

The question lingered in his mind. He had a similar thought when he and Katara discovered Aang all those years ago.

* * *

 **A/N:**

"Question" draft that didn't make the cut. Directly related to "Kage" as a small epilogue as well.


End file.
